


Electric Sheep?

by chromyrose



Series: SASO 2017 [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Amputation (Off Screen), Body Horror, Emil is an Android, F/M, Gen, Hospitals, Human Experimentation, Injury, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Platonic Polyamory, Platonic Relationships, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:25:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: An injury on the ice leads to a painful revelation about the truth of Emil's "superhuman-ness."





	Electric Sheep?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistaken/gifts).



> This was written as a fill for SASO 2017 bonus round 1. The prompt was: "AU where Emil literally is a robot and doesn't figure this out till he falls on the ice and breaks something."
> 
>  **PLEASE NOTE:** This fic refers off-screen amputation and implies experimentation on an unknowing human subject! I myself am pretty weak to gore so there is no gore in this fic, but if the notions of missing limbs, robotization, or human testing distress you, please give this a miss!

Upon regaining his senses, Emil wondered if something was severely wrong with them; he'd never found himself thinking that an ice rink smelled like antiseptic before. The strikingly clean scent of the room overwhelmed him, and he groaned, his eyes opening slowly and taking a few seconds to come into focus. 

“Emil!” A voice from close by cried, a voice familiar enough that he knew he knew it. The bright lights of the room were harsh on his eyes, so he shut them again, and found it easier to place the voice when he didn't have to deal with the sensory assault.

“Sara,” he murmured, confirming it with himself more than anything. The brightness of the room and the smell fired off another synapse in his brain, and he added, “I'm in a hospital?” 

“Emil,” Sara said again, but it was really more of a cry now that Emil thought about it. Her voice sounded wrung out and small. “Oh thank God, you're awake. We thought --” 

She cut herself off with a hiccup, and then Emil was sure she'd been crying, or that she currently was. He forced himself to turn his head, which was heavy and fuzzy, and slowly opened his eyes once more. He was more prepared for the light this time, but his vision was bleary and Sara's face was mostly indistinct. 

It was gone in a flash, as she buried it in her hands and started to sob. Emil's reflex was to sit up and comfort her, but the minute he tried it felt as if every nerve in his body was set aflame, and he collapsed back onto the bed. 

“Sara,” he whined. “I realize you're upset but I have no idea what happened. Did I fall?” 

She sniffed a few times in succession, and then apparently found something to blow her nose in. Before she could answer, someone else did, in a voice deeper and somehow even more tense. 

“Did you FALL?” Michele bellowed, then uttered a laundry list of Italian swears so quick Emil couldn't keep up, but so obviously profane that his ears burned anyways. When Michele was done, he was so close that Emil could feel the heat coming off his body, and he opened his eyes to a vicious violet stare, tempered somewhat by the red rimming his eyes. “You're a fucking idiot, Emil. Not only did you fall, _stronzo_ , but you completely fucking shattered your leg. But not like a normal person would crack a bone, maybe tear some fucking muscles, no. You're not a normal person at all!” 

“Mickey!” Sara gasped, a little belatedly in Emil's opinion. Or maybe it was too soon, since he still didn't know what had happened to him.

“I'm sorry?” He offered weakly, gaze flitting between the twins. “I guess whatever happened to me was really bad, and I'm sorry I put you through it, but I can't really get a good look at myself, so please explain it to me. A little more specifically? And maybe with less Italian?” 

Emil hadn't realized Michele's hands were shaking in clenched fists at his sides until Sara reached out and held her brother's hand. Her lips were pursed, and so Emil's gaze settled on Michele as he waited for him to say something. 

“...You didn't tell us,” he finally said, his voice painfully strained. It hurt Emil to hear it, and he wished he could get up and hug his friend through this. He didn't have much time for those thoughts because Michele barreled on, “You didn't tell us you're made of prosthetics.” 

Emil's head hurt very much, but he was certain that didn't explain what he'd just imagined he'd heard. “I'm... what?” 

Michele bristled, but Emil knew him well enough to know that anger wasn't directed at anyone, just the situation. But he wasn't the one who spoke; this time, Sara answered. 

“You're a... a robot, Emil. Mostly.”

“...What...?” 

Michele huffed, and moved to the remote attached to the side of Emil's hospital bed. With an unexpected gentleness he touched Emil's cheek, placing his arm in front of Emil's torso in case he lost balance, and then pushed a button that shifted the bed up from it's horizontal position. The shift gave Emil a new vantage point, but all he saw was his own body, skin and hair and nails where he wasn't covered by the hospital gown and bedding. And then, with that same uncharacteristic gentleness, Michele pulled the blanket away from Emil's body, and everything inside of him went cold. 

Everything beneath his right knee was gone. Gone. His knee itself was still there, covered in shredded, overhanging skin that definitely bore signs of intense burns, but the skin was hardly what had Emil's attention; it was his kneecap. 

What he wasn't seeing was a patella; what he was seeing was a small metal box with hinge and a little scrap of metal hanging off of it. 

“Mickey, he's turning white, he's getting sick!” 

“Fuck, you're telling me you actually didn't know?” Michele's voice sounded like it was going through a bad filter, like Emil was hearing it through water. His sight was becoming similarly distorted. “Emil! Emil!” 

Warm hands touched his chest and his face, too numerous for him to count, and he heard incomprehensible crooning by his ear through the water-filter in his brain. 

_A fucking robot_. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony; all year he'd been crafting a pair of programs around the concept of transcending his humanity, but he'd never been human to begin with – 

“Emil,” Sara's voice came soft, somehow cutting through the noise in his head. He focused on it, on the warmth of both twins' touch. “Emil, sweetie, don't cry. It's okay.” 

“I'm not...” 

“Fuck that,” Michele swore, not with his usual flippancy, but with a gravitas unlike any Emil had heard from him before. His voice was low, and speaking right into Emil's ear. “You are. You're Emil Nekola. You're the person we love.” 

Emil's breath hitched, but he started to feel warmth flow again inside him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let me know! You can find me online on [twitter](http://twitter.com/haikyuutiie).


End file.
